


Control

by thekatthatbarks



Category: Naruto
Genre: Battlefield, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-03-31 03:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13966059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekatthatbarks/pseuds/thekatthatbarks
Summary: Shikamaru watches Sakura as she fights, how she takes control of the battlefield with just the touch of her hands.Inspired by Control by Halsey





	Control

Sakura was… _different_ in the middle of a battle.

 

                They worked well together; maybe not as much as his original team, but still well. Even after fighting through a war, though, it was still a little… _bloodier_ than he’d like to fight. Shikamaru _could_ fight like any other shinobi of his rank if not better, but he rarely did. Not like the others. He was the brain. He strategized and took down opponents without ever touching them. _Then_ , someone else finished the job for him if he had a partner or team behind him. Shikamaru wasn’t a fighter, not in the same way.

 

                _Not like Sakura was._

 

                Her muscles were harder than stone. Sweat glistened across her skin and blood dripped from her fist. She had bruises and scrapes along her body, callouses on the soles of her feet and the palms of her hands. Her expression was harsh, the lines of her face set with determination and a _threat_. Each movement she made, each step she took, and each throw of her body was with the promise of immobilizing her opponent; if they were lucky, with unconsciousness rather than death.

 

                Shikamaru was in love with her. This never changed, even after fighting beside her and watching her. He still loved her. He’d just become more thankful that he’d never have to be on the receiving end of her glare.

 

***

 

                _I’m not weak!_

Sakura yelled as her first swung with full power at her opponent. She felt that sticky wetness on her skin as he flew, dirt flying up into there from where he landed with a loud and defeating _crack_. She didn’t pay him any more attention and turned to the next enemy, grabbing the shaking sword he’d extended towards her and throwing it along with him to the ground _hard_. The slit in her palm was deep but she’d healed it with her chakra before moving on to the next one.

 

                _I won’t fall!_

She could feel Shikamaru watching her, his eyes on her body and her surroundings intensely. He stopped enemies in their tracks before they got to her and aimed kunai that pinned them to the ground. He held his own and then some, just like she did. He wasn’t just _back up_ , though he admitted to her that he sometimes felt that way with her. She disagreed. They were a _team_. _A damn good team._ Sometimes, she felt like a weapon for him to use as his shadow pulled her out of blades reach and turned her towards her next target. As quickly as he took control of her, he released her back to her own will to then fight his opponents. She’d heard Kakashi in drunken ramblings go on about how shinobis were sometimes used as tools, how dehumanizing it could feel. But this wasn’t anything like that. It was exhilarating. She felt invincible with this charged energy running through her. _No one ever touched her, but she always got her hands on whoever she wanted._

                She could feel the fear from the next man she ran towards. His face was sickly and pale, covered in sweat. His legs trembled, and he weakly held up his arms in poor defense for her oncoming attack. Part of Sakura felt pity for him and her feet almost hesitated. _Almost_. He was an _enemy_. She remembered the mission assignment, she knew who these men were, what they had _done_. He deserved every bone that was about to shatter. She held their lives in her hands, _literally_ , and that gave her a thrill that she wouldn’t admit to anyone.

 

                She smirked before her fist went through his limp arms to grace his stomach, barely touching him and still sending him flying meters away to knock a towering tree to the ground.

 

                _They should fear me._

_I am in control._

*** 

 

                Shikamaru was far from a medic, but Sakura had quickly learned that he liked to look after his teammates in any way he could. She liked to think he paid special attention to her. That his lingering gazes and gentles touches meant something more than simply taking care of a comrade after a battle. The way he knelt on the ground in front of her as she sat on a log and cared after every scrape that dared to graze her skin.

 

                _Because he loves me._

 

                It was so different from how she’d been moving just moments ago. From deadly blows and terrifying yells to soft words and careful touches. She never looked away as he did this. She liked to watch his hands move across her skin, to see the worry in his brow and the frown in his lips. When he dragged the wet cloth across her dirtied and bloodied skin, she almost chuckled.

 

                _It’s like he’s purifying me, washing away the blood of my sins._

He glanced up at her, the corners of his mouth twitching seeing her smile. “What?”

 

                She shrugged, enjoying the soreness of her muscles even though they ached. She gave him a fond smile and told him like she always did, “You know, you don’t have to do this. I can wash off in a river on the way home or we can even stop at a bathhouse.”

 

                He looked away from her and back to the task of wrapping her hands. _His mother had told him it would help with arthritis in her old age if she kept her joints tightly wrapped._ He smiled and kissed her knuckles, replying as he always did, “I know.”

 

                This too, filled her with an endless energy. One that was like a wire that was hot to the touch, vibrating with its intensity but remaining calm. The way he looked after her and cared for her gave her a sense of power over him – or maybe that wasn’t exactly it. Maybe it was that he gave her a sense of power that wasn’t necessarily _over_ him but _with_ him. Sakura didn’t complete understand it, but it didn’t matter because she was sure she gave it right back to him.

 

                She’d noticed something over the years of being with him, though. Something that had bothered her and kept her up at night with anxiety, but she’d always been too afraid to ask. She knew most of the truth. It was the missing piece that was bothering her.

 

                “I… know you don’t _like_ fighting with me, Shika.” She spoke quietly almost as if in the hopes of him not hearing her would give her the opportunity to give up on ever having this conversation.

 

                Shikamaru paused in his ministrations, but it was barely noticeable. “Sakura, you know I’ll always take a mission with you if they let me.” He was smart, he didn’t agree or disagree with her, while still answering her.

 

                _He didn’t._

She took a short breath and picked a stray hair from his ponytail to focus on. “You think I’m terrifying when I fight, don’t you?”

 

                The answering silence afterwards was painful with how it constricted her chest. She knew if he didn’t say anything, then she wouldn’t either and they’d move on. When he did, though, she felt like something was choking her.

 

                “Yes.”

 

                She forced her next words out, feeling like her throat was closing up. _Look at me!_ “Do I… scare you?”

 

                _Please don’t say yes._

_Don’t._

“No.” His reply was solid with no hesitation and he finally met her eyes. Sakura felt like her air was given back to her and she let out a shaky breath as she stared into his eyes. She was scared of seeing that fear there in his eyes, the one that she reveled in on the battlefield, but she searched for it anyways. She had to know. She couldn’t live with herself if she scared him. _Not him._ She’d have lost all control then.

 

                But there wasn’t any fear there. No terror. No hesitation. No _doubt_.

 

                Just certainty. Admiration. Trust. _Love_.

 

                _He loves me. Loves me for every part, even the ugly ones; the dark ones with frayed edges._

She smiled down at him, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. “I love you.”

 


End file.
